


St Valentine's Honour

by RedStarFiction



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: A micro-fic that popped into my head surrounding Jamie’s interpretation of Valentine’s Day. I know it’s about 6 weeks too early but I wanted to write it and post it now! Happy New Year everyone! xx





	

Jamie dipped the quill into the ink well and pulled it out again, watching the excess drops fall back into the bottle. He bit his lower lip and contemplated what he wanted to say in the letter.

The celebration of St Valentine was something Roger had assured him women of Claire’s time took most seriously. She had never mentioned it to him, but then he had seen the lass ride into the midst of a battle camp, half starved and half mad with worry and yet not say a word about it.

Jamie snorted and moved the tip of the quill to hover above the parchment

*My dearest stoic wife…*

No, that sounded like he was teasing her.

*My dearest Claire ….*

No, that was too formal.

Jamie laid the quill down and stood, pacing to the window, the fingers of his left hand drumming against the muscle of his thigh. He could see Claire in the garden, her hair being pulled gently this way and that by the breeze and the cotton neckerchief she wore against the February chill fluttered beside her ear, as if she were a flower and it was a fat blue hummingbird intent on gathering the very last drop of her sweet nectar.

Jamie cleared his throat and dropped his chin to his chest, blushing despite his blood rushing in the opposite direction of his face.

He had once punched his uncle and burnt his Grandsire’s wooden teeth for the insult of calling Claire ‘Mistress Honey-lips’ and even near thirty years on, he considered his action to be right but there was something about his Sassenach that made men forget themselves and become something more akin to a beast.

Jamie drew the thick curtain closed and return to his desk, now draped in shadow.

*My study. Now, if you please.*

It was a frivolous use of parchment but Jamie grinned to himself as he strode toward the door.

“Jem?”

He called, handing the lad the note and a penny with it.

“Deliver this note to ye Grannie please, she’s in her wee herb garden. Then go and feed the chickens.”

Jamie waited until he heard Jem happily calling out to Claire and then removed his cravat and untucked his shirt, loosening the stays of his breeks. It would take Jem perhaps fifteen minutes to feed the chooks, enough time to honour both his wife and St. Valentine’s honour – God bless the man’s soul!


End file.
